


Silent Library

by SWLBarnes



Series: Supernatural Imagines [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Gender Neutral Pronouns, Non canon compliant, Not Beta Read, Other, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, gender neutral reader, generally sassy and cutesy, inspo from that one impractical jokers episode, mild swearing, references to sam in the cage, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 07:16:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19246405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SWLBarnes/pseuds/SWLBarnes
Summary: Request from TumblrWhen Sam and Dean take issue with your newfound friendship with the devil and the king of Hell, you decide that a special team building game is the best way to break the ice.





	Silent Library

Your eyes scanned over the colorful array of cards in your hands with a scrutinizing gaze. Not the best hand, you had to admit. Your sights flickered back and forth between the two other players at the table in an attempt to read their expressions.

Clad in his infamously crisp black suit, Crowley curled his lips upwards in a knowing smirk. He had something good. Dammit.

To his left sat the blonde haired blue eyed devil you had known for years on end, and based on the upwards quirk of his brow, you knew you weren’t getting past him either. Lucifer peered up at you over his hand of cards, grinning maniacally from behind the red and yellow faces of _UNO!_ staring back at you. You let out a huff of air through your nose and returned to your own cards.

Lucifer tapped his fingers against the wooden tabletop of the bunker’s library. That same smirk remained plastered on his features as he plucked two cards out of his hand and slapped them down on the pile in the middle of your makeshift circle.

Two draw four cards. Your jaw dropped and you turned to Crowley, expecting an outburst of some kind at having to draw eight more cards from the deck. Instead, he gave a proud quirk of his lip and carefully pulled two cards from his own collection. He dropped them down as well.

_Two more draw four cards._

“What!” You cried in disbelief. “There’s no way! That’s not even possible!” You slammed your cards down face down on the table and stood up abruptly. The legs of your chair squeaked against the hardwood floors beneath your feet.

“Oh, but it is, darling,” Crowley’s accent drawled.

“Here, I’ll help you out!” Lucifer piped up, pushing the deck of unused cards towards you and counting out 16 cards to add to your hand. Shooting him a harsh gaze, you take your new cards from him and add them to the old pile you previously discarded in your rage. Eyeing the first card on top, you get an idea. 

All it took was Lucifer skipping Crowley’s next turn for you to do it. You placed down your fresh new card, proudly showing the illustration with the words _swap hands_ beneath it. You turned to Lucifer and held out your empty hand. “Yours. Gimme.”

“WHAT?” The archangel shouted. The sound reverberated off the walls and clearly echoed through the halls of the old bunker. 

At that moment, the large metal locks on the front door audibly began clicking out of place until the door was able to swing open. In waltzed a pair of surly, grime covered, exhaustion ridden hunters. At the sound of Lucifer’s voice, Sam and Dean’s boots pounded down the metal staircase. All remnants of their previously tired state were gone when they finally came into view with their guns drawn. 

“What the hell?” Dean growled. He pulled the hammer of the gun back, but it did little to disturb either of the men he was attempting to threaten. A measly gun couldn’t hurt them. 

You peeked up from your fresh new deck of five cards you swiped from the devil across from you. “Hi babe! Hey Sam!” You greeted. You stood from your seat and made your way over to the pair, pressing a quick kiss to Dean’s lips and engulfing them both in their own hugs. Neither one lowered their weapons. “Come on, guys. At ease. They’re fine. We’re just having fun.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Dean’s gruff voice rumbled. “‘Cause these two are always just _having fun._ They’re just _fine,_ aren’t they? Never done any wrong, these guys.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, and you gave an annoyed roll of your eyes. You opened your mouth to reply, but Crowley’s gravelly drawl beat you to it.

“What’s wrong, squirrel? Worried we’re better company than you two buffoons?” The king queried in amusement. Dean’s upper lip twitched with clear annoyance and frustration. You let out a huff.

“You, keep quiet for a second or maybe I’ll let them run you through with the demon knife,” you warned, wiggling your pointer finger in Crowley’s direction. He struggled to fight the amused grin from his face and mimed zipping his lips before holding his hands up in surrender. You nodded and turned back to the brothers. “Now, you two, are we seriously going to have to deal with this whole charade every time I have my friends over?”

Dean fixed his glare on you, though it wasn’t quite as effective as he would have hoped. You knew the man too well to be fooled by such a tactic. “Maybe if you made some normal friends we wouldn’t have to be so on edge,” he snapped back. With a sigh, you stepped forward and reached out, placing your hands atop their raised guns and slowly lowering them down. You peered up at Sam, hoping he might be willing to offer you some assistance or at least a comforting nod, but his eyes also remained fixated on the pair seated at the table. Regret flashed in your mind momentarily as you thought back to the younger Winchester’s past experiences with the devil. Of course he would be uncomfortable; the archangel did spend 120 years torturing his soul in the cage.

“How about this,” you began, voice softer than it was previously. Both brothers flickered their eyes over to you for a moment to show that they were listening. “I’ve got an idea to maybe… ease the tension here a little. It’s not going to fix everything, I know that. But maybe it’ll help everyone feel less… threatened by each other. Something for fun, yeah?”

Dean looked down at you, expression softening as he took in your pleading gaze. He shot his brother an apologetic glance before nodding his head slowly in agreement. 

A smile broke out on your face. You whirled around on your heels and took in the faces of the other beings in the room. This would surely be fun.

-

“This is a _terrible_ idea,” Sam muttered as he shuffled in place in the passenger seat of the Impala. He fiddled anxiously with the strap of the backpack between his legs.

Lucifer, who sat on your right side in the back of the car, gave a maniacal grin in response. “You’re absolutely right. Isn’t it great?” 

“I must say,” Crowley piped up from your opposite side, “if I have to spend more time around you two flannel clad halfwits, this does seem like the best way to do so.” 

Sam let out an annoyed scoff and flicked his head to the side to reorient a stray lock of chestnut hair. “Come on, this is ridiculous. We’re just gonna annoy people. They’re all just trying to get their work done, this isn’t fair to them!” The taller Winchester waved his hand towards the beige building in front of the car in an attempt to prove his point.

A grin formed on your lips at his words. “Oh please. You’re just scared ‘cause you knew you’re gonna lose. Don’t worry, we won’t hold it against you, big guy.” You reached a hand forward and patted him on the shoulder. This only succeeded in earning you a hazel eyed glare.

“Dean, help me out here,” Sam’s voice strained in hopes of having at least one person on his side.

The familiar emerald gaze settled on you, and you were quick to pout out your bottom lip in a pleading manner. The puppy dog look you learned in your first few months with the brothers always worked like a charm, and though it might be a dirty tactic to use, you weren’t just going to let this go without pulling out your full arsenal. Dean cursed softly under his breath. “Alright, let’s do this,” he gave in without a second thought.

Sam’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Dean!”

But it was too late. Dean had already opened the driver’s side door and stepped out onto the asphalt. Lucifer and Crowley snickered and followed the hunter’s lead as they opened their doors to stand upright. You made a move towards Crowley’s side, but stopped just short of the opening. “If it makes you feel any better,” you began, turning your eyes to Sam’s frustrated frame. “I made sure we came to a library you’ll probably never see again. You know, so when you’re banned from ever coming back-”

You were quickly cut off by Sam grabbing a forgotten packet of chips from the floorboard and tossing the still sealed bag at your head. A squeal escaped your lips as you dodged the assault and clambered the rest of the way out of the old muscle car.

Your feet met the blacktop and you stood to your full height, tugging your own backpack onto your shoulder. Crowley took a moment to close the car door behind you, and all the while you tried your best not to chuckle at the sight of the King of Hell donning an old ratty backpack you dug up from the back of one of the bunker’s old closets. He still sported his freshly pressed suit, making the image all the better in your mind.

Sam took his time getting out of the car, muttering the whole way about how stupid this idea was, and how immature everyone he surrounded himself with was. You whirled around on your heels and addressed the group as a whole. “Alright everybody!” You began with a clap of your hands. “Let’s go over the rules one more time. So, the aim of the game is to get each other kicked out of the library. The teams are as follows: Sam and Dean, you’re a team, and then Crowley, Lucifer, and I are a team. As you all know, we’ve all packed each other’s bags. All of the things in these bags are to be used to make a different noise. You have to choose an item out of your bag at random and use the item to make a noise. You’re allowed to try to hide the object when you’re making the noise, but you have to make the noise for at least four seconds total. We’ll be sitting in different places of the library to hopefully make everything less suspicious. Does everyone understand?” All four men nodded their heads in response. You gave a wide grin and nodded as well. “Great! Let’s get on with it, then, boys.”

As you made your way into the library building, you stepped into place beside Dean. Your hand slipped easily into his own, giving him a comforting squeeze. “I really love you, you know that, right?” You whispered to him, leaning towards him as if it were some well guarded secret only meant for the pair of you. He flashed you a small, adoring smile, one also seemingly meant for you and only you.

“I love you too, but why do I get the feeling you’re not saying that out of the goodness of your heart?” He queried, squinting his eyes playfully. You let out a chuckle.

“Well, just… remember how much I love you and how much you love me… after I absolutely crush you at this game!” With that, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and picked up your pace to make it to the door a good few seconds before the green eyed hunter’s significantly longer legs could. Your mischievous grin morphed into a pleased smile as your ears picked up on his uproarious laughter behind your back.

It didn’t take long for you all to take your places around the library. The layout of the building allowed for a large portion of one room to be dedicated to a set of tables and chairs for patrons to spend their time on their laptops or reading any of the hundreds of books and resources available. Instead, your group was going to cause an absolute scene in the usually quiet and composed atmosphere. As much as you should have felt bad about the whole thing, you couldn’t help but be proud of what you put together.

You pulled out the book you grabbed on your walk to your seat. Your own bag hung from the back of your seat, teasing you with the prospect of what the Winchesters might make you embarrass yourself with. Your book lay open in the middle of the story in front of you on the table. Your eyes scanned over the pages without really taking in any of the information. You vaguely registered the fact that it was some sort of horror or thriller that reminded you of a strange Stephen King knockoff. Perhaps it would have caught your attention if you hadn’t read scarier stories in your own diary. Luckily, the words on the page weren’t the reason you were sat in that seat in the first place.

You peered up across the room to the span of seats between Sam and Dean. Both men shuffled in their seats with clear discomfort, and the sight made the conniving portion of your brain jump for joy at the aspect of those two dorks making themselves such huge targets to get out. All eyes settled on the older of the brothers. He had been the last to put his finger on his nose back at the bunker, and that meant he had to go first.

Eyes as green as the Perrier bottles he seethed at each time he passed by them at the grocery store swept over his surroundings. Every single one of his hunter instincts seemed to kick into play as soon as he touched the hard oak seat. One hand dipped down into his backpack before slowly dragging back out, his fingers enclosing his first object. Dean shifted the item underneath the table to get a better look at it, only for his eyes to squeeze shut in utter annoyance. You could practically hear him screaming, “seriously?” without him even having to open his mouth.

His head lolled limply on his shoulders for a moment as he collected himself. Then, sitting up straight and cupping the object in his hands, he brought it to his mouth.

_HONK!_

A duck call. That noise was unmistakably a duck call. The shrill sound rang out through the building, permeating the steady silence with a sudden, sharp trill. Heads shot up from where they were all ducked into their studies, everyone peering around in search of whoever made such a sound. Dean, in all of his acting glory, continued cupping the object out of sight and looked around in feign disbelief. Then, once a few seconds had passed, he lowered his head and blew into the call again, holding it until his time was up.

He ripped the duck call from between his lips and tossed it back into his bag with little grace. His arms crossed nonchalantly over his chest in an attempt to decrease suspicion.Heads swiveled back and forth in confusion, no one quite sure where the disturbance came from, other than knowing it was in Sam and Dean’s general vicinity. Still, no one approached him. No one told him to leave. He flashed a grin in your direction and wiggled his brows. That cocky SOB.

His quirked brow in Crowley’s direction, challenging the king to be the next to step up to the plate. Crowley’s lips curled into a smirk, and he reached into his own bag next. Out of the pack came a sizable piece of bubble wrap, likely cut from one of the packages Sam had grabbed from your joint P.O. box a couple days prior. You could already hear the plastic crinkling between his fingers, and he hadn’t even started the challenge yet.

His turn wasn’t quite as intense as Dean’s was. He did little to hide the fact that he was the one making a ruckus. He twisted the bubble wrap between his hands, the popping echoing through the shelves and causing a good portion of the crowd to jump in fright. The issue here was, Crowley’s glare alone was enough to stave off any unwanted attention. One young man in a crew neck advertising a local college held his gaze on the demon for a few seconds too long, and with one glance, the poor kid was practically shaking in his boots.

With a simple smirk, he looked across the room to connect his eyes with Sam Winchester, tossing him the reins of the challenge with a quick wink. Sam’s brows dropped over his eyes into his infamous look of pure annoyance. He simply shook his head and reached into his bag without any preamble. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a moment before he pulled out an electric pencil sharpener. 

His shoulders dropped and he hung his head with a soft sigh. He leaned back to plug in the sharpener and pulled out a pencil from his bag. Then, he put on the best “I’m too busy working to think about my actions” face and scribbled roughly on the paper in front of him, audibly snapping the pencil lead.

Once again, the noise just wasn’t enough. People didn’t seem to care enough to take action, and Sam twirled his freshly sharpened pencil towards you with an upwards twitch of his eyebrows. You narrowed your eyes at him in a playful manner, causing him to toss the same look back at you.

You reached down into your own bag, grabbing the first thing you came into contact with. You fingers curled around the small plastic object and you pulled it out, settling your eyes on the dollar store kazoo you had bought a few months back and hid in the back seat of the Impala to annoy Sam and Dean on some of the longer drives. You should’ve known this would come back to bite you. You shot a glare in Dean’s direction, only to see him already grinning like a maniac and proving that this was, in fact, his idea.

You took up your stance of bowing your head down towards your book and adopted Dean’s strategy of trying to hide the kazoo within your palm. Letting out a hum, the little toy buzzed to life and amplified the noise tenfold. You squeezed your eyes shut and stopped out of pure instinct. Papers shuffled around you. Whispers from across the room. Silence. 

_ZZZZZZ!!!_

You hummed into the instrument one more time, but kept your head bowed with the knowledge that your face was a fiery red color. Looking around and showing that to the world was an automatic red flag.

You waited a moment. And then you waited a little more. Still, no one stormed up to you and demanded you leave, and you peeked out from behind your steepled hands with a cocky smile. You pressed a kiss to your hand and blew it towards Dean, who simply scowled and let out an audible huff. 

Out of his bag came a familiar item. He held the spin drum you placed there for him in his hands with a look of utter confusion. He looked up at you with a quirked brow and shook his head to emphasize his uncertainty. In an effort to help him understand how to work it, you held up your hands and rubbed your palms together. Slowly, he positioned the handle between his palms and looked up at you for confirmation. You nodded and gave a quick thumbs up.

He rubbed his hands back and forth, causing the pellets on the two strings to swing and smack into the head of the little drum. The high pitched _THUMP!_ seemed to catch Dean by surprise, as he jumped and almost dropped the instrument. Wide eyes shot up to meet yours in shock. You just tossed him a maniacal grin and nodded for him to continue.His Adam's apple bobbed with a heavy swallow. 

He barely had enough time to start back up before a frail old woman in a dark purple pencil skirt turned the corner and stormed her way over to the hunter. She stopped a couple feet away from him with her hands settled on her hips. “Sir, if you could please try to keep the noise down, some people are trying to get some work done. They would much prefer not to be disturbed by this whole… charade.” She waved her hand towards Dean’s seat to illustrate her point. Dean gave her his best lady killer, please-don’t-make-me-stop look, but for once it didn’t seem to work in his favor. The old librarian just gave him one final glare before turning on her heel and walking back out of the room.

Dean looked over at you in hopes of that not going against his game, but you shook your head. He might not have gotten kicked out entirely, but he was told off, and that was enough to get him out of the game. A low growl emitted from where he sat across the room, but other than that, he remained quiet. His arms crossed over his chest and he turned his annoyed gaze to Lucifer. The devil was a bit busy trying not to burst into laughter to return the sass as he reached into his own bag.

His laughter dissipated as soon as he pulled the object out of his bag. He held the cheap recorder instrument in between his fingers as if it was some disgusting piece of garbage he wanted to toss into the nearest garbage can. Sam’s snort of laughter could be heard from across the room, but it was quickly muffled by his hand slapping over his mouth and nose.

Lucifer shook his head in defeat and raised the instrument to his mouth. The sound that came out, however, even caused you to jump in fright. Instead of blowing softly into it, he seemed to blow as hard as he could. A sharp squeal escaped the recorder instead of the usual, vaguely annoying soft notes. Your hands flew up to cover your ears against the onslaught of noise, and within seconds, the clacking of heels against the floor was rounding the corner once again.

The librarian glared over her thinly framed glasses perched on the edge of her nose. The beaded chain wrapping her glasses around her neck swayed with each step she took towards Lucifer. She snatched the recorder from his hands and slammed it down on the table. “Sir, I’m going to need you to keep the noise down, or I’ll be forced to kick you out of this establishment. Do you understand?” She hissed.

The devil tried his best not to seem disconcerted by the woman’s rage filled reaction. He remained silent, and soon enough she turned and left the room. As soon as her back was turned, Lucifer’s eyes flashed red and his forked tongue poked out at her retreating figure.

The annoyed archangel burrowed his way into his seat and turned away from everyone. When the devil loses, you suppose, he runs out of ways to sass the Winchesters. If only they had known how much of a sore loser he is before the whole apocalypse situation. You let out a chuckle and turned to Sam, who looked just as amused as you felt, if not more. Even Dean was grinning at the sight of a pouting fallen archangel.

Sam took a deep breath and reached into his bag. The shuffling gave light to a rattling sound, and his face dropped in realization. Slowly, he pulled out the item to reveal a large maraca, which you had also chosen to pack for him. His face said all you needed to know, his look of defeat sending a surge of pride through you. He finally bowed his head and held his hand in the air, shaking the maraca until everyone’s favorite friend arrived once again. 

The librarian stormed her way into the room once again. She snatched the maraca from Sam’s hand and threw it back into his backpack before grabbing the bag and shoving it into his lap. “That’s it!” She called out. She whirled around to face the whole room, her short gray hair pointing every which way atop her head. Wild eyes scanned over the shocked faces of the library’s patrons. “Everyone wanting to play these stupid games needs to leave immediately! You all!” She pointed directly at Dean, Lucifer, and Sam individually. “You need to get out of my library, or so help me God, I will _not_ hesitate to call security down here!”

You pulled your book up to hide your reddening face and pursed your lips against the laughter fighting to make itself known. The three men could be heard shuffling around and gathering their things to leave the room, but it wasn’t until you heard the retreating click-clack of high heels that you finally put the book back down and gathered your own things to meet the boys outside. Crowley followed close behind you, snickering the whole way.

You burst out the front door with a satisfied grin. “Suck it, losers!” You called out, flinging your bag to the ground and holding your arms out to your sides. Sam huffed.

“That was so not fair! She was already mad, there was no way I was gonna get through that!” He complained as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his favorite tan jacket. You gave a vague shrug.

“Sorry, Sammy, not my problem! We still won, fair and square!” You proclaimed with a grin. You turned to Dean with this same expression. He tried his best to look annoyed, but at the sight of your genuinely happy state, he flashed you a smile as well and pulled you into his side for a hug.

“Yeah, _Sammy,_ and you’re not the only one who got treated unfairly,” Lucifer sneered. Sam flashed him a genuine glare, a far cry from the playful back and forth you and the taller Winchester shared.

“Only they can call me that. Don’t start getting familiar.” Sam nodded his head towards yourself and Dean, who gave proud grins at the declaration. 

“Alright, well,” you began, leaning into Dean’s side. “Us three have to get back to the bunker. I’ll see you two later, so don’t get yourselves into any trouble, alright?” You gave pointed glances to both Crowley and Lucifer, who tried their best not to make eye contact with you. You simply narrowed your eyes at them. “Hey, listen to me, you punks. You gonna be good?”

They finally met your eyes with exhausted glances, both of them slowly nodding in agreement. You nodded and waved them off, and moments later, it was just you, your boyfriend, and your best friend stood outside a library you could never go inside ever again. And for that moment, everything seemed okay.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” You suggested, voice soft so as not to break the calm atmosphere between the three of you. You looked from Dean to Sam, taking in the laid back smiles on their lips.

“Yeah,” Dean murmured. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah, let’s go home, sweetheart.” 

You never let them live down the fact that you would forever hold the title as Team Free Will’s library challenge champion.


End file.
